A woman identical to her is missing.

Will she be next?

Private investigator Jackson Travers swears he’s located his best friend’s missing wife, but Sophie Sparrow is not Sabrina Cromwell, even if she looks identical to the woman in Jack’s photo. When Sophie is nearly killed, Jack wonders if it’s a case of mistaken identity. Can he uncover the truth before Sophie—and her missing doppelgänger—end up dead?

ALICE SHARPE met her husband-to-be on a cold, foggy beach in Northern California. Their union has survived the rearing of two children, a handful of earthquakes, numerous cats and a few special dogs, the latest of which is a yellow Lab named Annie Rose. Alice and her husband now live in a small rural town in Oregon, where she devotes the majority of her time to pursuing her second love: writing. You can write to her c/o Harlequin Books, 195 Broadway, 24th Floor, New York, NY 10007. An SASE for reply is appreciated.

Also by Alice Sharpe

Hidden Identity

Cowboy Incognito

Cowboy Undercover

Cowboy Secrets

Cowboy Cavalry

Shattered

Stranded

Undercover Memories

Montana Refuge

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Identical Stranger

Alice Sharpe

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09402-3

IDENTICAL STRANGER

© 2019 Alice Sharpe

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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This book is dedicated to Joey, Sam, Koa, Kiwi, Mele, Annie and Bonnie, even though most are no longer with us and none of them could read a word. They each filled our lives and hearts with joy. I mean, really, who doesn’t love a dog?

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

About the Publisher

Chapter One

Sophie Sparrow sat very still, the sound of rain hitting the window the only noise in the room. As a young girl, she’d imagined what this moment would feel like. Boy, had she been wrong.

“What do you say?” Danny Privet asked as he knelt on bended knee by her side. A glittering diamond ring sparkled in his hand.

She gulped. When he’d asked to come by this Saturday morning, she’d assumed they would go out to brunch. She had not even imagined this. “Danny, I—”

“Go on, say yes,” Sophie’s mother prompted from her self-imposed semipermanent residence in a recliner located four feet to Sophie’s left.

Danny’s head swiveled to her mother and then back to Sophie. “If you’re worried about having to move to Seattle, don’t. I’ve secured a position here in Portland. My new job starts in two weeks.”

“You quit your job! But what’s the rush?” Sophie whispered as she tried to make an intimate moment out of a public one. Her long straight hair fell forward if she leaned her head just so, creating an impromptu curtain between her mother and herself where she could study Danny in privacy. Why had he chosen to propose now? What was going on?

For a second, his soft gray eyes held an unfamiliar edge. She’d always wondered how anyone as agreeable as he was could make it as an attorney, how he could defend a client in a court of law, but this new glimpse into his character suggested he possessed the passion a courtroom would require. “Why should we wait?” he responded. “I’ve known you were the right woman for me since the minute I saw you in that grocery store. Why not get married now?”

“Now?”

“Well, I know how important a wedding is to you ladies. Plan whatever you want, I’ll pay for it, just make sure we tie the knot by Wednesday because Thursday morning, we leave for Hawaii! I remember you mentioned wanting to go there. I’ve already bought the tickets and made all the arrangements. It’ll be a honeymoon you’ll never forget!”

Sophie would have gulped again if her throat wasn’t so dry. She felt like a contestant on a game show, different curtains lifting to reveal unexpected—and in this case, unwanted—surprises. “Oh, Danny, you shouldn’t have—”

“For once in your life,” her mother interrupted, “use your head. This boy wants to marry you.”

“I certainly do,” Danny said. “And, frankly, Sophie, I thought you’d jump at the chance.”

Sophie, just about speechless, finally mumbled, “We’ve only known each other a few weeks. I need more time.”

“To wait for a better offer?” her mother scoffed. “Show some spunk! This boy is a wonderful catch, especially for someone of your—well, think about how kind he’s been to me. What else do you need?”

I need to love him, Sophie whispered internally, and I don’t. I’ve been waiting twenty-six years to find someone to complete me, a second half that I’ve always known existed out there somewhere. Silly? Romantic? Probably, but there you go.

As usual, when faced with her mother’s iron will, Sophie voiced these arguments solely to herself, where they went to work burning a hole in her gut.

“Thank you for your compliments, Margaret,” Danny said softly, “but I can’t agree with your assessment of Sophie. To me she’s a star, the brightest in the heavens, an angel surrounded by a halo of gossamer fawn silk.”

Gossamer fawn silk... Did he mean her hair? The flattery sounded like lines lifted from a greeting card, but on the other hand, it was kind of nice to hear positive—if overly flowery—things about herself instead of negative. She smiled appreciation.

Danny apparently mistook her smile for acquiescence. Taking her hand, he slipped the ring on her finger. He got up off his knees and sat down on the sofa beside her, placing himself between Sophie and her mother. He squeezed her hand. The ring was too big and had slipped to the side; the pressure of his grip pinched the stone between her fingers.

“I knew you’d say yes,” he said with a smile bordering on a smirk. “I was so confident you’d see how perfect this is that I already bought you a wedding present. You know that house a block over that’s for sale? I bought it yesterday. You’ll be close enough to keep an eye on your mom.”

He’d purchased a ring, a honeymoon and a house before even popping the question and without asking for any input from her. She’d known him about a month. How had he been so sure she’d say yes?

“I’ve also taken the liberty of looking into hiring full-time live-in help,” he added, addressing Margaret. “I hope you don’t think it presumptuous of me but I see how you struggle. Would you mind having someone else living here with you?”

Sophie’s mother fanned her face with her hand. “I’m just a disabled old widow, Danny. I know you have your own mother to consider. You shouldn’t worry about me. But yes, it would be so nice to have someone to talk to who doesn’t prattle on about teaching babies how to read. I’ll tell you, a little of that goes a long way.”

“I think her enthusiasm is cute.” Danny chuckled as he squeezed Sophie’s hand again.

His condescending words struck her like poison darts. She pulled her hand free as retorts ransacked her stomach looking for real estate in which to sink new geysers.

And how could her mother not understand that the money Sophie made teaching her adorable first-graders was all that stood between this admittedly small house and a tent on the sidewalk?

“What would you like to talk about instead, Mom? Your sciatica? What a big disappointment I am?”

Was that her voice she just heard? Had her thoughts actually forced their way up her throat and out of her mouth? Her gaze darted from Danny’s face to her mother’s. Their stunned expressions made it crystal clear she had indeed given voice. Dumbfounded, she stared down at the gaudy ring on her finger.

Margaret didn’t miss a beat. “Danny, dear, if you haven’t changed your mind about marrying bridezilla over there, perhaps you and I should discuss the details.”

He leaned forward. “Don’t take her words personally, Margaret. She’s just excited. A wedding is the most important day of a woman’s life, right?”

Their voices faded to white noise. Sophie couldn’t feel her feet. In fact, numbness seemed to be spreading up her legs toward her heart.

She stood abruptly, catching both of their attention. Looking from one pair of startled eyes to the next, she mumbled, “I have to go.”

“Where?” her mother demanded.

“The school,” she said. Where else would she go?

“Since when is the school open on a Saturday? What’s gotten into you?”

“It’s a...PTA bake sale,” she muttered.

“I’ll drive you,” Danny said, starting to stand.

“No, thanks,” she called over her shoulder as she forced her legs to carry her into the kitchen, where she grabbed her coat and purse from the hook by the door and moved quickly outside. Oscar the cat scooted past her into the warmth of the house before she closed the door and ran through the pouring rain to the curb where she’d parked. For once the aging compact started without trouble and she drove down the street with no plan except escape.

After a couple of miles and ever-increasing traffic, she pulled to the curb, turned off the car but kept an iron-fisted grip on the wheel to still her shaking hands.

Her cell rang and Danny’s name flashed onto the screen. Damn if she wasn’t tempted to answer the call. As soon as it stopped ringing, she picked up the phone and turned off the power.

The panic that had fueled her this far now began escaping into the atmosphere like steam rising from hot bread. She attempted to review the pieces of what had just happened, who said what, all of that, but the words were muted now, details washed out, a blur. What remained was the one moment when she’d glimpsed her life through a different lens and hated what she saw.

Had she run from her mother’s negativity, Danny’s condescension or her own sudden fear?

A woman exiting a shop caught her attention. Tall and svelte, what really made Sophie look twice was her crown of platinum curls that seemed to announce to the world that this woman took no prisoners. The shop she had left was a hair salon.

“I want to trade places with her,” Sophie said aloud. She got out of the car and walked into the salon.

The hairdresser turned as Sophie entered.

“I need help,” Sophie said.

“Honey, all I can do is fix your hair,” the woman said with a half smile.

“That’s a start,” Sophie said. And in her heart she knew she could never go back to the way things had been.

* * *

JACKSON TRAVERS SAT across the table from the very pretty wife of his best friend, though right now she looked exhausted. It had taken him hours to drive here from his house in Northern California, and as of yet, he still had no idea why Sabrina had summoned him. What he did know was that there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for Buzz and, by extension, Buzz’s wife.

“It was really nice of you to come,” she said after the waitress delivered coffee. “I’m sorry the hotel is so crazy. As far as I know, this is the first February they’ve hosted a conference here. I had a reservation but I’m worried you’re going to have trouble—”

“Don’t worry about it. The front desk connected me with a little place a couple of miles down the road, so it’s okay. I have to admit I’m curious why you called,” he added. “You sounded spooked on the phone.”

As she pushed aside her dark hair, a series of fresh red scratches on her forehead caught his attention. Since he’d already noticed the abrasions on her palms when they shook hands and the stiff way she moved as she preceded him into the coffee shop next to the hotel, his curiosity ran rampant. “I’ve never called a private investigator before,” she said.

He flashed what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “Think of it more as calling a friend. I know we’ve only met a few times, but you’re Buzz’s wife and that makes you family.”

She smiled. “Thanks.”

“So...”

“First of all, I don’t want Buzz alarmed,” she said quickly. “He has enough going on right now.”

“You’re referring to him being in Antarctica.”

“Yes. The whole scientific team is currently aboard a Russian ship visiting outer islands. I can reach him by radio but holding an in-depth conversation is really hard. He doesn’t need to worry about me.”

Jack studied her for a second. He’d had a feeling of destiny when she called, something not common to him, something he didn’t even believe in. He’d just had the sensation that her call was the catalyst of a crucial moment in his life and he’d rearranged his plans to travel here without a second’s hesitation. “I can’t promise you I won’t notify Buzz until I know what we’re talking about,” he told her at last. “Why don’t you just tell me what’s going on.”

She swallowed a sigh and fidgeted a bit before finally speaking. “It started a couple months ago when I was in the kitchen cooking lasagna. The neighbors across the backyard were having their porch painted. I was at the window draining pasta when I saw the painter taking photos of me with a big camera. By the time I set aside the strainer, his back was to me and then he left... I just had the strangest feeling he’d been doing more than taking pictures, the feeling of, well, invasion.”

“You were cooking?”

“Yes.”

A painful lump appeared in his throat as her words awakened painful memories. They had no place in the present and he did his best to ignore them. “Why do you use the word invasion?”

She shrugged one shoulder. “It felt...personal. Stupid, huh?”

“I don’t know,” he told her, the lump refusing to budge. “Did he paint the porch?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did he finish the job?”

She thought for a second. “I don’t know.”

For a second he just stared at her, forcing himself to let go of out-of-context parallels between Sabrina’s issues and his own past. She was sitting here, alive, proof that his imagination was getting the worst of him. “What happened next?” he finally said.

“A day or so later I came home from work to the feeling that someone had just left our house. No one was there, of course, but I swear, there was just some lingering essence, something that sent chills up my spine. It happened the next day, too. I searched the house but nothing was missing, nothing was even out of place. There was just...nothing.”

“Did you call the cops?”

“Of course not. What could they do?”

“Well, something made you uneasy,” Jack said, not only to reassure her but because he was a firm believer that reasonable people picked up on offbeat vibes they sometimes couldn’t even identify.

“I run into burning buildings for a living,” she said softly. “I’m not anxious to be tagged as the woman who gets rattled over nothing.”

“Buzz calls you unflappable,” he said.

She smiled fondly.

“Anything else?”

“Just that same watched feeling. It started to get under my skin. Last weekend when I walked out of the fire station it was stronger than ever. I looked around, but the only person I saw was sitting in a parked car. He immediately drove off but that afternoon I came home from work and found an origami fox folded out of a dollar bill sitting on the front porch.”

Again he stared at her because now the vibe had changed from creepy to sophomoric. No, he cautioned himself, her story is just diverging from the one written in your head. This is her story, not a trashy remake of yours. “Not inside the house?” he said aloud. “No note or anything?”

“Nothing.”

He folded his hands around his cup. “Tell me why we’re meeting here in Seaport and not back in Astoria where all of this happened.”

“I’m not sure you know this or not, but every February for years I’ve driven up and down the coast. There aren’t many tourists in the winter and the hiking trails are all but empty. Anyway, after Buzz and I got married, we took the trip together. I was dragging my feet about it this year because Buzz is gone, but after I found one of those origami foxes perched on my steering wheel I decided it was time to get away for a while, and since I’d already made all the reservations—well, I just went, a day early, too, which I thought would give me a chance to chill out.

“I drove down to the California border pretty much in a straight line, stayed a couple of nights in Brookings and then started my way back up the coast just like I always do. Everything was going okay until I was hiking a narrow trail down to the beach about fifty miles south of here. A falling boulder appeared out of nowhere. It hit my left side and knocked me to the ground. I had to scramble to keep from going over the edge. It was a long way down to the rocks and I could hear waves breaking.” She took a deep breath and continued. “Once I was back on the trail I heard something on the bluff above me.”

“Like what?” he asked as he realized the scratches on her face and hands were undoubtedly caused when she fought to keep from tumbling over the edge of the mountain.

“Like footsteps.”

“You’re thinking some purposely dislodged the rock?”

“I don’t know...maybe.”

“Did you report the incident to authorities?”

She shook her head. “I climbed up to take a look myself. The spot was within easy walking distance of the parking lot. No one was around. The ground was muddy after this run of wet weather but it was also covered with pebbles—I couldn’t see any footprints. What could the police do?”

“Investigate,” he said gently. “Also, they’d be in the position to tell you if similar incidents had happened to other hikers due to weather or even vandals. They might have been able to help you understand if the falling rock was personal or accidental.”

“Okay, you make a point. But I keep thinking police will question friends and acquaintances and word will get back to Buzz. What’s he supposed to do from half a world away and what if the paper foxes are just some stupid prank? Anyway, I woke up ridiculously early this morning and ordered room service to be left in the hall while I took a shower.” She retrieved her purse from the floor beside her, grabbed something from its depths and showed it to Jack. “This was on the tray when I uncovered it.”

Resting on her deeply scratched palm he found an origami fox folded out of a dollar bill. “I called Housekeeping at once to see if they’d put it there,” she continued. “They hadn’t, of course. I put the tray back in the hall and called you. Then I left. Once it was light, I stopped for a long walk on the beach. Nothing happened and I almost called you back to cancel but I figured you were already on your way.

“So anyway, I drove to Seaport. I always stay at this hotel and I thought if you and I met here, you could help me figure things out. After I checked in I went up to my room to collapse but the maid wasn’t finished cleaning so I came back to the dining room for breakfast. While I was waiting for my order, a man walked into the restaurant, made eye contact with me and immediately took a seat at the bar. I swear he was staying at the same hotel I was at when the rock fell. His being here could be sheer coincidence, of course, except that I have a feeling I’ve also seen him in Astoria.”

“Did you talk to him?”

She shook her head.

“Could he be the painter from your neighbor’s porch?”

She thought for a moment. “No. This guy had light brown hair and a trimmed beard... The painter was taller, darker, bigger. And maybe older.”

“How about the guy you glimpsed in the parked car?”

She thought again. “Really hard to tell. By the time my backbone rebuilt itself this morning, the man had left the restaurant.” She rubbed her eyes and took a deep breath. “If this guy is following me and leaving little gifts, I want to know it before I get home and he invades my house again or drops another rock on my head.” She took another breath before adding, “Jack, I know it’s a lot to ask but do you think you could help me confront him?”

“Of course. And if it turns out he’s just a hapless traveler, I’ll drive back to Astoria with you and see what we can do there. First we have to find this guy.”

“And you won’t tell Buzz.”

“We’ll leave him out of it as long as we can. That’s all I can promise.” He didn’t add the same deal would exist concerning police involvement.

“Okay.”

“And I have to ask. Could anyone you know be behind all this?”

“What? No!”

“Someone you don’t know well, then, someone with whom you’re in a legal battle.”

“Legal battle?”

“Well, the origami is folded out of money, right? Why? Could it be because someone thinks you or Buzz owe them something?”

She shook her head. “Neither one of us is in any kind of argument with anyone, legal or not. Buzz’s friends are all scientists more concerned with sea ice extent than money and none of them live locally. My friends are firefighters. They’re family to me. I’m an only child. My parents are deceased. I’m alone in the world, really, except for Buzz.”

“And Buzz wasn’t having trouble with anyone before he left?”

“No. None of this makes any sense and that makes me think it’s all in my head.”

“The origami fox isn’t in your head,” he reminded her.

She rubbed her eyes. “No, it’s not.”

“Nor was the falling rock.”

She looked unsure about that but he wasn’t a big fan of coincidences. The boulder could easily have killed her—probably would have if she wasn’t in tip-top shape.

And that meant someone wanted her dead.

“I have an idea,” he told her. “Why don’t I take photos of the men in this hotel while you get some rest. You can look at the pictures later and we’ll go from there.”

She started to argue with him, but he stood firm. Her eyes were bloodshot and she kept rolling her shoulders as though yesterday’s fall had hurt her neck or back. “Please, Sabrina. Get some sleep. In the long run, it will make everything go faster. Trust me.”

She finally agreed and he insisted on escorting her to her hotel next door and upstairs. They exited the elevator and turned toward the long, beige hall as a man in coveralls carrying a toolbox entered the freight elevator a few steps away. Jack heard the whirring of the motor as it descended.

“Where’s your luggage?” he asked after Sabrina had opened her door and he’d preceded her into her room.

“Still in my car.”

He checked the locked door to the balcony, the bathroom and the closet. “What are you driving?”

“Buzz’s old SUV. Why?”

“If you’ll give me your keys I’ll run down and get your things for you,” he told her.

“All I want to do is climb under those blankets and sleep. I’ll get everything later.”

“Okay, but don’t forget to slide the dead bolt after me,” he added and fervently hoped that when this was all said and done, Buzz would understand why Jack didn’t immediately get ahold of him no matter where he was.

Before he settled into a good chair in the lobby, he bought a cup of coffee at a kiosk he suspected had been created to service the dozens of human resource conference attendees milling around the hotel. As far as dropping everything to drive here, that hadn’t been all that hard. He was in the middle of two cases but he got a buddy to cover one and the other could simmer a couple of days. The only other thing he’d had to do was cancel a date he hadn’t been real interested in going on anyway.

Phone on camera mode, he clandestinely began taking pictures of every adult male he saw, customer or employee, bearded or clean shaven, tagged with a conference badge or not. Some of them seemed highly unlikely when compared with the brief description Sabrina had given—no facial hair, too heavy or tall or short—but all those things could be altered by a clever con man.

He’d just returned from his second run to the coffee kiosk when his roving gaze took in Sabrina moving away from the check-in desk. He set the coffee aside and walked over in time to catch her halfway to the door. “There you are. Ready to look at the pictures I took while you snoozed away the afternoon?” She had changed clothes, put on a coat and acquired a smattering of raindrops in her hair and on her shoulders. She’d been outside? She must have gone out to her car to retrieve her luggage. How had he missed her leaving the hotel, coming back inside to change and then apparently leaving again?

“I beg your pardon?” she said.

He finally looked past the raindrops. “I stand corrected,” he said. “You skipped the nap and went to a salon instead. I hear that can be just as fortifying.”

Her hand flew up to touch the lilac strands running through her glossy dark hair. “What I did with my afternoon is none of your business,” she said with a defiant tilt of her chin and then ruined the effect by shrinking back. “I’m sorry. That was rude.” She raised her hand as if to pat her hair and dropped it. “Does it look as bad as I think?”

He rushed to assure her. “It looks just like it did before, right, except for the purple streak?”

His words were met by another alarmed expression. “It’s two shades darker and ten inches shorter.” Her brow furled. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “I’ve been in such a fog today. I’m having the hardest time placing how we know each other. Who are you?”

“Who am I? Are you sleepwalking?” She didn’t smile at his attempt at humor. “Okay,” he said in a more serious tone. “How about letting me in on the joke.”

“Danny has something to do with this, doesn’t he?” she said as she glanced around the lobby. “He’s not here, is he? Please, tell me he’s not here.”

“How could he be here?” He shook his head to clear it. Was it even remotely possible that Buzz’s wife had a split personality? Had recent stress caused some kind of abnormal blip in her psyche? He touched her shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay? Did you change your mind and call Buzz, I mean Danny, after all?”

She held up one hand. “Wait a second. Why would I call him when all I want is a little space to think? And for that matter, why did you call Danny Buzz?”

“He earned the nickname two decades ago when he knocked a beehive out of a tree and got stung thirteen times, which is why he always carries epinephrine with him—just a second, he never told you about the bees?”

“No. This happened when he was growing up outside Seattle?”

He felt like scratching his head. “Buzz grew up across the street from my house in Napa, California.”

“He told me he grew up in Seattle,” she said.

“Why would he do that?”

“How should I know? He said his stepfather piloted a ferry on Puget Sound and his mom was—is—a housekeeper. He and his younger half brother—wait a second, why did Danny send you here instead of coming himself?”

Something weird was going on. He lowered his voice as they’d begun to draw attention. “You called me, remember? You asked me to meet you here. You’ve been feeling threatened and you asked for help figuring things out. You went up to take a nap—”

“I can’t even get a room here.”

He studied her face for some sign she was messing with him, dissecting her delicate features, aware as he did so that she flinched under the scrutiny, obviously uncomfortable and ready to run. She tried to rake her hair over her face but it was too short.

What was happening? This was the same woman he’d watched walk down the aisle two years earlier to marry his best friend, the same woman who sat across from him two hours before desperate for his help. And yet, somehow, it wasn’t her either. She “felt” different, like a lost and impotent version of herself. Two hours ago she’d been Buzz’s wife and now she was a complete stranger.

“Did Danny cook this up?” she said in a whisper, and he could feel her anxiety leap to a new level. “Mother must have guessed I’d come here—but why send a stranger?” She looked toward the door before turning back to meet his gaze. “I’d really appreciate it if you’d stop pretending you know me and just be honest.”

“Wait a second,” he said, ignoring the fact that she’d mentioned her mother in the present tense when the woman had died years before, ignoring everything except her unmarred forehead. “Where are the scratches?”

“What scratches?”

“The ones you got when that boulder fell. Let me see your hands.” He caught her left hand before she could move away. “Nothing,” he murmured as he studied her palm. Her hand trembled in his grip and he released it. “Where’s your wedding band?”

“Do you mean that stupid engagement ring? Because that’s in my purse.”

“I’m talking about the wedding band Buzz gave you. It belonged to his grandmother.” He shook his head. “Sabrina, something is very wrong.”

“My name’s not Sabrina.”

He peered into her deep brown eyes and finally accepted she was as clueless as he was. With the realization came a giant wave of relief. Sabrina hadn’t morphed into a delusional head case and he hadn’t fantasized that her very essence had changed.

The relief was short-lived as the woman standing inches away narrowed her eyes. But when she spoke, her voice was soft. “Don’t you think it’s time you explained what’s going on?”

“I wish I could,” he said.

Chapter Two

Oblivious to the hustle and bustle of the lobby around her, Sophie perched on the edge of an off-white chair and studied the man who had accosted her.

There was no denying he was better-looking than about 98 percent of the men currently walking on planet Earth, but if there was one thing she’d learned the hard way it was this: looks mattered exactly zero. What good were broad shoulders, a lean, fit body and very blue eyes if the person sporting these attributes turned out to be a lunatic or a manipulator...or both?

“I can’t believe you’re not Sabrina,” he said. “The likeness is incredible.”

“First things first,” she said. “Just who are you?”

“My name is Jack Travers. I’m a private investigator from California.”

“For real?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Why does that surprise you?”

“I don’t know. I guess you don’t look like one.”

“What does one look like?” he asked.

“Humphrey Bogart,” she answered without hesitation.

“Isn’t he a little dated for you?”

“My mother watches a ton of cable TV. I grew up watching The Maltese Falcon.”

“That’s a hard act to follow. Now, who are you?”

“Sophia Sparrow. Sophie. When you say this woman and I look alike, you’re talking in general terms?”

“Like eye color and height?” he asked and shook his head. “No. I mean identical, like clones, like twins. In fact, that’s the only explanation for your startling similarities and why I was so sure you were her.”

“Except that I don’t even have a sister let alone a twin,” she said. “In fact, I’m an only child.”

“So is Sabrina.”

“You said she’s your friend’s wife?”

“Yes.”

“You also said she felt threatened. What’s wrong? Is she in trouble?”

“I think so, yes,” he said, “but she talked to me in confidence so I won’t go into details.”

“You also mentioned a falling boulder.”

“Did I?”

Sophie wished he would stop staring at her. She tilted her head but no hair fell forward. Why had she chosen today of all days to cut it? She studied her hands to escape his gaze but looked back up because she wanted to know what he was thinking and so far she wasn’t sure. She only knew it was important to figure it out. Something strange was going on in many ways at the same time, leaving her confused and worried.

She’d driven to the coast for one reason—to think. And yet in the back of her mind she admitted that thinking about this mix-up was easier than thinking about herself.

With what sounded like an aha, Jack took his phone out of his pocket and fooled around with it for a second, then turned it so she could see the screen. “This is a photo I took at Sabrina’s wedding. The groom is my friend Daniel Cromwell. He’s currently in Antarctica. Take a look at the bride’s face.”

Sophie glanced from Jack’s intense gaze to the picture, and in that instant, her world flipped on its axis—again. From the bride’s small cowlick near her hairline to her heavily lashed dark eyes, from the shape of her face to her eyebrows to the bump on her nose, everything Sophie could see looked familiar.

Was this a trick? Had an old picture of Sophie somehow been Photoshopped into this format? So many things were different—hairstyle, hair color, makeup, jewelry, dress and, oh yeah, what little she could see of a dark-haired guy whose face was smashed up against hers. This was not a photo of Sophie and yet it looked as though it was.

“She’s prettier than me,” Sophie said.

“She’s a duplicate of you,” Jack murmured, his glance darting from the telephone to Sophie. “And you’re a duplicate of her.”

“She doesn’t have a mole on her cheek like I do,” Sophie continued, unable to stop staring at the woman on the screen. “Does she color her hair?”

“I don’t know. Except that she doesn’t have a purple streak.”

“Neither did I until this morning. You said her name is Sabrina?”

“Yeah. Sabrina Cromwell. Her maiden name was Long. Sabrina Long. She grew up in Astoria, Oregon, about sixty minutes north of here. How about you?”

Sophie had been digging in her shoulder bag as he spoke and now produced her wallet. She handed him her driver’s license. “Born and raised in Portland, Oregon. How old is Sabrina?”

“Eight years younger than Buzz, so around twenty-six or so. Wait, I remember Buzz saying she’s a July baby.” He scanned her driver’s license. “Looks like you were born in July, too.”

“Lots of people are born in July,” she said as she continued staring at Sabrina’s face.

He dug in his pocket and produced his own wallet. “You don’t have to take me on face value either,” he said, handing her his driver’s and private investigator’s licenses. She looked them over before returning them. “Are you adopted?” he asked.

“No. Is she?”

“Not that I know of.”

“I want to meet her.”

“I think she’ll want to meet you, too, but I’m pretty sure she turned her phone off when she decided to take a nap. I’ll try calling her room.”

Sophie popped to her feet. “She’s here, in this hotel, right now?”

“Yes.”

She blinked several times. Was she up to more shocks and surprises? Did she have a choice? She followed Jack to the desk, where he placed the call but ended up leaving a message. “I’m going upstairs to check on her,” Jack said. “I’ll be right back.”

“May I come with you?” Sophie squeaked, then stiffened her resolve. “I need to see her with my own eyes. This is all so...weird.”

“I think she’ll need a few minutes to adjust to...things. She’s pretty stressed.”

“Yeah, well, so am I.”

He smiled and the transformation was stunning. Half-surreal before, he now turned into a genuine human being. “I can see how you’d feel that way,” he said, and together they rode up to the third floor and walked down the hall.

He finally stopped and knocked on the door of room 302. It was the same room Sophie had stayed in the summer before, the one she’d hoped to get today because it had a great view of the beach. They waited a few seconds and then he knocked again, harder this time. He twisted the knob to no effect. “I’m going to try a credit card,” he said as he opened his wallet.

“Shouldn’t we just go downstairs and ask for help?”

“Probably, but it’s chancy they’ll open the door without provocation. I saw this in a movie. It might work, what the heck.”

As he ran a variety of cards through the magnetic lock, Sophie heard footsteps and glanced up to find a maid carrying an armload of towels walking toward them. She elbowed Jack, who glanced over his shoulder and quickly stuck the cards in his pockets. Sophie looked back at the maid in time to see a man turn the corner on his way to the elevator. He and Sophie made eye contact. He stopped dead in his tracks. His gaze shifted as he patted his pockets, then he turned on his heels and disappeared back around the corner.

It looked as though he’d forgotten something.

The housekeeper paused midstep. “I saw you earlier today,” she said, smiling at Sophie. “Did you leave your key in your room?”

“Yes,” Sophie said. The woman had mistaken her for Sabrina Cromwell. The last possibility that Jack might be in cahoots with Danny in some elaborate scheme to accomplish heaven knew what toppled off the edge of probability.

“I can open it for you,” the woman said. For a second, Sophie wondered how they would explain the sleeping woman already in the room, but the bed was empty and the maid went on her way.

They closed the door behind them.

Jack glanced at the open door of the bathroom as he strode to the balcony and tried the glass door. It was locked. Planting his hands on his waist, he stated the obvious. “She’s not here.”

“Where are her things?” Sophie asked because aside from a rumpled bed and a damp hand towel in the bathroom, the room looked untouched.

“In her car. I guess I should go make sure it’s still parked outside. Give me your cell number and I’ll call you when I get this cleared up.”

The impulse to wait in the lobby drew her like a magnet. She could find a corner where she could commence thinking about her life. Waiting felt comfortable. It felt natural.

She looked up into Jack’s blue eyes. The anxiety she found there made waiting seem an inconceivable option. “You think something happened to her,” she stated flatly.

“I don’t see how it could have, but yeah, I’m concerned.”

“Then I’m coming with you.”

“You don’t need to do that. I’ll let you know.”

“Listen,” Sophie said, reaching over to grasp his arm, then removing her hand at once. There must be something on his jacket sleeve, some invisible substance that made her palms tingle. “There aren’t any rooms available at the hotel, I’m not going home and I’m not going to risk losing track of you and Sabrina. It’s like fate is screaming my name, trying to tell me something. Normally I would ignore such unwanted callouts from things like destiny and all that, but today—I don’t know, I think I should listen. I can’t explain it, I just have to find out where Sabrina is, who she is. I have to see her.” She shrugged and slid him a glance to see if he was ready to bolt. He actually nodded and she took a deep breath. “I don’t understand how anyone can look so much like me and not actually be—” She stopped short.

“Related,” he finished for her and briefly touched her arm as though he understood. “Nor do I. All right, come with me. Let’s see if we can find her car.”

* * *

“SHE’S DRIVING BUZZ’S old Chevy,” he said as they walked out into the rainy afternoon. “Think rusty hulk.”

He pulled the hood up on his jacket. She hesitated while still under the protection of the portico, and he realized her coat didn’t have a hood and the rain had done nothing but go from bad to worse. “Why don’t you wait here while I check the outside lot, then if need be, we can look in the parking garage together.”

“Okay,” she agreed.

Ten minutes later he jogged back to the front of the hotel to find Sophie gone. Man, he was losing women left and right today, but in this case, he thought it likely Sophie Sparrow had rethought her involvement with this situation and cut her loses. He was disappointed and not only because he was curious about the connection between her and Sabrina. Maybe it was for the better. What good could possibly come from being attracted to a woman who lived hours away, looked just like his best friend’s wife and, more to the point, was in the middle of a relationship with a guy named Danny?

Was he attracted? Yeah, for whatever reason, he was. He wanted to know why she’d stuck purple in her hair. He wanted to know why she was timid one minute and brave the next.

Bypassing the valet’s offer of help, he entered the parking garage located under the hotel.

Sophie was waiting for him inside the entrance. He was able to stifle the smile that threatened to curve his lips, but there wasn’t a thing he could do about the spark of pleasure that flared in his chest.

“It was cold standing out there,” she said as she joined him. “It’s not much warmer in here, though. I take it her car isn’t in the lot?”

“No. Let’s work our way down.”

But search as they might, they could not find a rusty white Chevy SUV with a red stripe down its side in among all the sleeker, newer models. By the time they reached the bottom tier, Jack was sure Buzz’s car wasn’t parked in either the lot or the garage. That meant Sabrina had driven it away from the hotel. Why? What caused her to leave without telling him? It seemed so out of character.

He took out his cell to try Sabrina again but the reception was nonexistent down here.

“Let’s go back up to the lobby and see if I can get some coverage. Obviously Sabrina left the hotel for some reason. I guess she couldn’t find me to explain why. I’ll call her again.”

Sophie had to know as well as he that his words didn’t explain why she didn’t call or text or why she wasn’t responding to his repeated attempts to contact her. She nodded but made no comment.

He started up the ramp, unaware until he was nearing the ground floor that Sophie wasn’t directly behind him. He turned to look for her right as revving engine noises bellowed up from below. A human scream came right before four thousand pounds of screeching metal shot past Jack and accelerated up the last ramp, leaving behind the acrid smell of burned rubber.

Jack ran back down the ramp half-sick at what he might find. “Sophie?”

She was plastered to one of the brick support pillars, eyes closed, shaking like a leaf. She was missing her right shoe, and her handbag had disappeared from her shoulder. He clutched her arms. Her eyes flew open, and for a second she stared at him as if she’d never seen him before. Then she burst into tears and fell against his chest.

A few seconds later, pounding footsteps heralded the arrival of the parking valet, who stopped short in his tracks and stared at them as he gasped for breath.

“Is everyone here okay?” he finally managed to sputter.

Jack titled Sophie’s chin up. Her brown eyes were huge but a resolute expression had begun to chase away the initial fright. “How about it? Are you all right? Are you hurt?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Shaken but recovering,” she muttered.

“What happened?”

With a glance at the valet, who seemed to be hanging on their every word, she shook her head again. “Later.”

The valet was not as reticent. “I heard a racket down here and then a car came flying out going ninety miles an hour!” he said, his eyes as round as hubcaps. “I thought for sure someone had been run over flatter than a pancake.”

“Did you get a license plate number?” Jack asked.

“Are you kidding?”

“How about a glimpse of the driver?”

“As I was ducking out of the way for my life? Nope.”

“Was it a car you’d parked?”

“Doubt it. We have valet spaces reserved on the first floor so we can deliver as fast as possible. If it came from down here, chances are good someone parked it themselves.”

“How long have you been on duty?” Jack asked.

“Since morning. I’m going home soon.”

“Then do you remember a woman who looked a lot like Ms. Sparrow here parking an older white SUV Chevy?”

“Or taking it out,” Sophie added, her voice shaky.

“No. I haven’t seen a car like that, not that I remember anyway. There’s a parking lot outside. Some people prefer to use that no matter what the weather. Some people really don’t like underground garages.”

“I may now be one of them,” Sophie mumbled, then took a deep breath and straightened up, pushing herself away from Jack’s grasp. “I’ve lost my shoulder bag and my phone,” she announced, nose and eyes dripping.

“I’ll find them,” the valet said, and went to work searching for the bag. With a triumphant whoop, the kid found her purse on top of a car parked a few spaces away and retrieved it. He handed it to Jack, who pressed it into Sophie’s hands.

Sophie opened the purse and withdrew a tissue to wipe at her face.

“I’ll look for your shoe,” the valet offered as he scanned the pavement and kept talking. “You know, we get some awful drivers here, we really do, but this guy took the cake.” He leaned way over to shine a penlight under a row of vehicles. He stood again and turned to search the other direction. “That dude peeled out of here like the cops were after him.” He knelt again to shine his light. “Found it!” he called as he all but crawled under a van. He stood up grasping the shoe and focused the narrow beam of light on the skid marks scorching the pavement. “I guess you’re just lucky he was a good enough driver to miss hitting you,” he said as he handed the shoe to Sophie.

Sophie’s lips parted. Jack thought she was going to say something but instead she slipped the black loafer on her foot as he steadied her arm.

“Do you have your phone on you?” he asked the valet.

“Sure.”

“Sophie, give him your number. Let’s see if your phone will ring.”

“Good thing I turned it back on,” she said as she rattled off her number.

A second later they heard a ring that Jack tracked down to the far side of the garage, where he found it had landed against the tire of a truck. As he picked it up and glanced at the lit screen, he saw numerous alerts that “Danny” had called. He handed it back to Sophie. She scanned the screen momentarily before turning the device off and shoving it in her pocket.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said as she settled her handbag on her shoulder.

“Sure.”

She waited until the valet was far ahead of them before tugging on Jack’s sleeve. “The car didn’t veer to avoid me,” she said. “It swerved to hit me.”

* * *

“WHY DID YOU wait to tell me that?” Jack asked as they took their first deep breath of fresh ocean air. The rain Sophie had previously avoided now created a welcome cleansing, and she closed her eyes to turn her face upward.

“Sophie?”

She let Jack lead her under the portico, relieved when the valet left to help an arriving customer. “I don’t know,” she said. “I guess I didn’t want to make a fuss.”

He looked down at her as if to speak, but his expression suddenly softened. With one finger he touched her cheek. A raindrop glistened on his fingertip and he met her gaze. It was a strange moment full of currents Sophie didn’t understand, but that was okay. This whole day had been a time out of time, one bewildering moment following another.

“Jack?” she finally said.

He blinked away whatever place he’d been lost in. “You sound just like Sabrina,” he said. “She didn’t want to make a fuss either. And now she’s gone.”

“Well, I’m right here. Weren’t you going to try calling her again?”

He pulled out his phone and a moment later shook his head. “It goes right to voice mail.”

They walked back into the lobby. Feeling shaky, Sophie took a chair by the door as Jack continued on to the front desk.

After leaving the hairdresser, she’d headed to Seaport almost on autopilot. This town and this hotel were familiar—she’d been vacationing here for years, first with her parents and then alone after she graduated from college. She’d felt sure this was the place she could figure things out before returning to Portland and explaining herself to Danny and her mother.

In light of what had happened within the last hour, that plan now seemed ancient.

She thought again to the parking garage—could she be mistaken about the driver’s intentions?

Jack sat down next to her. “Sabrina is still not answering her room phone, her own phone, anything. I’ve called the town’s other hotels and the hospital. The front desk has no record of her checking out. She’s just vanished.”

“People don’t just vanish,” Sophie said.

She saw him flinch and wondered what nerve she’d inadvertently touched. “Actually, people do,” he said softly. “At least for a while, sometimes forever.” He seemed to shake off whatever had distressed him and leaned toward her. “Tell me why you stayed down on the bottom level of the garage and what happened between the time I left and returned.”

“You said something about your phone reception and I stopped to dig my phone out of my purse, turn it on and offer it to you,” she began. “Then I became aware that an engine had started and I turned around. A whitish car inched out of its spot, then turned and started my way. I was still standing in the middle of the lane so I moved aside. The driver gunned the engine and the car sped up. I dodged farther right—that’s when I think I lost my shoe, but the car veered, too, so I tried to get behind the support. As I ran, I think my bag slipped down my arm and then the car tore it out of my hand. It made the corner with screeching brakes and shot upward toward you. I thought it might hit you... I just stood there like an idiot, too rattled to move. And then there you were—well, you know the rest.”

“You felt the attack was purposeful?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Did you see the driver?”

“Kind of.”

“Kind of?”

“I think he was about my age. I don’t know—it was a blur.”

“Sophie, think carefully, does anyone know you’re here?”

“In Seaport? No.”

“Think for a little longer. You must have told someone you were coming to the coast.”

“I didn’t even know I was coming until I was practically here.”

“Okay, you said something about your mother guessing where you were and you’ve mentioned a guy named Danny a few times.”

“My mother could have guessed. I don’t know that she did, but she might have.”

“Would she have told Danny?”

“If he asked. But he would never try to run me down.”

“You positive?”

She thought for a second. “Yes. He’s my boyfriend. Sort of. Probably not anymore. He asked me to marry him this morning and I kind of...left. That’s no reason to kill someone.”

“You’d be surprised,” Jack said.

“Come on,” she joked as she resisted the urge to elbow him. “Look at me. I’m not the kind of woman to excite men to grand passion.”

“You underestimate yourself,” he said. “Okay, we’re going to the police.”

“Why would we—”

“Because you look exactly like Sabrina. If someone wasn’t going after you specifically, then it figures they mistook you for her. The next step could be a great big rock falling on your head. Don’t argue with me.”

She broke into laughter. “You know, that whacko might have been after you, not me or Sabrina.”

“He didn’t aim at me,” Jack said softly.

“Oh. Well, since Sabrina is missing, I think going to the police is a reasonable thing to do.”

“So glad you agree,” he said with sarcasm and she laughed again. She never laughed like this. Obviously the day’s events were catching up with her.

They took Jack’s car and within minutes were speaking to an anxious-looking police sergeant who kept glancing at the clock. Jack and Sophie both produced their identification and the sergeant looked it over without much interest until he got to Jack’s PI license. “Just out of curiosity, were you formerly military or civil police?” he asked.

“I was a cop in Los Angeles for seven years before going out on my own,” Jack said.

“I know a guy who did that, too,” the sergeant said as he handed back their papers with a quick peek at the wall clock. “What can I do for you folks?”

Sophie was content to let Jack explain her garage encounter. He didn’t mention that they’d been searching for Sabrina’s vehicle but she figured he’d get around to it eventually.

“Ah, this stuff happens all the time,” Sergeant Jones said with another glance at the time and a general shuffling of papers. When he saw their interest in his obsession with the clock, he smiled. “It’s my tenth anniversary,” he confided. “I completely forgot about it last year, and let me tell you, my friends, that is not a mistake I am ever going to make again. I made a reservation at her favorite restaurant but I keep thinking I should do something else. She’s always complaining about how old her mixer is—”

“Don’t get her an appliance,” Sophie interrupted.

“Really?”

Sophie nodded.

“Buy her flowers,” Jack said, and Sophie looked at him in surprise. He smiled. “Red roses for passion,” he added as he met her gaze.

The sergeant grinned. “Yeah, and I can pick those up at the grocery store on my way home. Now, what was I saying?”

Sophie spoke up. “Jack just told you about the driver who almost—”

“Oh, yeah. I remember. Thing is, some stupid kid gets all excited because he sees a pretty girl and wants to impress her but he’s not nearly as cool as he thinks he is and goes too far.” He glanced at Jack and added, “And you feel protective, of course, because she’s your girl.”

Sophie opened her mouth, but Jack jumped in. “I hope that’s all it is,” he said. “The guy could have killed her, you know.”

Now the policeman glanced at Sophie again. “I wouldn’t worry about this, Ms. Sparrow. You aren’t hurt, right? And without an ID on the car, there’s really not much I can do. I mean, do you have any idea how many newish white sedans are running around in this city?”

Sophie thanked him—for what, exactly? she wondered—and started to stand. That’s when Jack brought up Sabrina and revealed what she thought must be the minimal amount to drive home the fact that the woman felt threatened enough to elicit Jack’s help. “We were searching for her car when the incident with the wild driver occurred. It’s important to remember that Sabrina Cromwell and Sophie Sparrow look very much alike and that Sabrina seems to be missing.”

The sergeant once again checked the clock before stifling a sigh. “Did you find her car?”

“No.”

Sergeant Jones made a few notes. “Do you have her plate number?”

“It’s her husband’s SUV so run Daniel Thorne Cromwell, Astoria, Oregon.”

“Okay,” Jones said as he jotted notes. “We’ll keep our eyes open, but honestly, people like this are usually off looking at the beach or shopping or something. You know this, Mr. Travers, from your own experience both as a policeman and as a detective. Chances are good she’ll show up. She’s an adult, right? No law says she can’t get a wild hair. There was no sign of a struggle?”

“No,” Jack said.

“Nobody at the hotel is alarmed?”

“No.”

“Did you check the hospital?”

“Earlier today.”

He made a note. “I’ll check again just to be on the safe side. If I learn anything, I’ll let you know.” The sergeant looked over at the wall clock and they finally took the hint.

Once again they found themselves outside as overhead lights glittered on falling drops of silver rain.

“Why didn’t you tell him about Sabrina and the rock?” she asked as he opened the passenger door.

“Because I promised her I’d keep everything she told me quiet as long as I can. I’m doing my best. She’s concerned about her husband finding out. He’s a long ways away right now.”

“In Antarctica,” Sophie remembered his saying. “Doing what?”

“He’s part of an international team of biologists and other scientists investigating climatic changes. He’s been gone a couple of months. Sabrina doesn’t want him to worry.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“I feel that the stakes have changed. I feel Sabrina needs help and it’s clear to me that it’s not going to come from Sergeant Jones. He’s right that most people who leave suddenly and without explanation usually have a good reason. But most people haven’t been followed for days or felt invaded enough to ask for professional help.”

“She must have been terrified,” Sophie said softly.

He ran a hand through his gorgeous hair and looked her in the eye. “The bottom line is that right now it’s clear we represent her best chance of being found.”

She noticed he used the word we, and as good as it made her feel inside, it frightened her, too. Was she up to the task? Well, she would just have to be. “You’re really worried about her,” she whispered.

“Yeah,” he said, “I am.”

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